


farewell happy fields (where joy forever dwells)

by amosanguis



Series: baseball horrorthon 2k18 [3]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Ghosts, Horror, M/M, Nothing is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Repeated Line, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 01:57:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: There’s a boy in the basement.





	farewell happy fields (where joy forever dwells)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “Song of Joy” by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

-z-

 

There’s a boy in the basement.

 

-

 

Kris sits straight up in his bed – trying desperately to catch his breath.

 

-

 

There’s a boy in the basement and only Kris can see him.

 

-

 

Bryce doesn’t believe him – not at first.

 

-

 

There’s a boy in the basement and only Kris can see him; he’s broken and bloody with a gunshot wound that leaves half of the back of his head missing.

 

-

 

Kris screams as the chairs start to fly and Bryce screams as the windows shake then shatter.

 

-

 

There’s a boy in the basement and only Kris can see him; he’s dead of a gunshot wound that leaves half of the back of his head missing as he reaches out to Kris, choking on his missing tongue.

 

-

 

Kris and Bryce once had promising futures in The Show, but a blown knee took Kris out of baseball and into management and Bryce, ever loyal, ever faithful, had followed him to Florida.

They had picked their home together, priced low for the neighborhood, and ignored the rumors and tragedy its previous tenants had gone through.

Kris feels the barrel of a gun pressing just underneath his chin, a tear trailing down his cheek, and knows then that he won’t live to regret _this_ mistake. Bryce, his brains and blood against the wall he leaned on, stares lifelessly, challengingly, at Kris.

“ _Please_ ,” Kris begs.

The boy in front of him blinks in and out of reality. “It’s okay,” he says, words clear despite that missing tongue. “It’s better on this side.”

“I don’t want—”

“It’s okay,” the boy interrupts, and the gun presses tighter against Kris’s skin, “there’s no pain here. No pain here.”

Another tear falls and Kris says, “Okay, then,” and his fingers twitch and he never hears the gun go off.

 

-z-

 

End.


End file.
